Roses
by Jackilyn Trades
Summary: Sylar/Claire. Set after Dual. Inspired by a fluffy, sappy, corny-cheesy quote and a series of pictures I found on tumblr. Four-shot.
1. Anniversary

Gabriel lay on his bed one afternoon, staring at the painted-white ceiling of his apartment room, a frown creasing his brow, deep in thought. It was his and Claire's third anniversary tomorrow and he still doesn't have any idea what to give her! He's given her a silver-and-red necklace on their first anniversary, telling her that "even without it, she still looks as beautiful as ever" and a pair of rose earrings last year, that time whispering softly in her ear when he'd leaned forward, "You're more beautiful than any rose on this earth."

She loves each of his presents and she in return had given him a silver upside-down-cross necklace bearing their names on it, entwined at the "i" (she'd mused, "I remember that however much we try to avoid each other and go opposite ways, somehow an invisible string brings us to each other for answers again.") and a copy of "Pillars of the Earth" ("I remember how much you'd wanted a copy when we were in that bookstore. You couldn't bring yourself to put it down!" They'd laughed.).

Now, Gabriel had no idea what to buy! Or _make_ . . .

He remembers how much she loves snow globes, like his late adoptive mother. _Maybe I could buy her one?_ he asked himself, but decided against it. _I could let her be __**inside **__a snow globe by the time Christmas comes . . . Yeah, I'll do that._ He smiled at his own idea. Well, now he has an idea for what his Christmas gift would be . . . but he still doesn't know what to give her for tomorrow!

He sighed, and bumped his head on his bed, forcing himself to think.

Like a freight train, it hit him. His eyes opened wide, and widened even more when he kept thinking of the present he was thinking of giving for Claire the next day . . .

It was perfect.

_Perfect!_ he repeated to himself, a huge grin spreading on his face.

He sat up and got off his bed, walking over to his bedroom door, still thinking about his brilliant (?) idea.

_Yes, she would love it. She would love it! However fluffy, corny, and cheesy it may be, she'll love it!_ His grin only widened when he mused, _Oh, she'll laugh at the irony, that's for sure._ He chuckled, shrugged on his coat and strode over to the door, which he opened, locked, and closed with a bubbly air.

He'd never felt so . . . _giddy_ in . . . well, never, actually.

All was right with the world.

For now.


	2. The Gift Part One

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Claire glanced at the caller ID on her phone, and smiled.

_Gabriel._

She answered it, and felt her heart skip a beat when she heard his velvety midnight voice say her name in her ear, "Claire."

"Gabe . . ." she breathed out, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest.

"Happy anniversary." She beamed.

"You remembered!"

"Of course I did." He sounded half-hurt that she would doubt him and half-amused that she thought he would forget.

"Gabe . . ." she breathed out again. "Happy anniversary to you, too . . . ."

"Thanks, baby doll." Her heart did a little flip in her ribcage. She loved it when he called her pet names . . . it made her feel so _loved_ and . . . _accepted_.

"Listen," his voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her back to reality, "um . . . eight PM tonight?"

A huge ear-to-ear grin split her face. "Sure." _God_, why was she so _breathless_?

"Great! See you!"

"Yeah," she breathed before she hung up. She let her phone fall onto her bed and softly bounce on it before finally resting on the soft covers. Her grin was plastered on her face, her green eyes twinkling, heart pounding as it fluttered around her chest.

She hugged her pillow tightly, his voice echoing in her head.

She was going to see him again . . .

Not that they hadn't been seeing each other; there was only one reason why she and Gabriel saw each other for at least once a month or every other month (but always on their anniversary): Noah.

Three knocks on her door made her flinch in surprise, dropping her grin and dreamy eyes. _Speak of the devil . . ._

Noah opened the door to her room, "Hey."

"Hey," she grinned.

He raised an eyebrow at her, "What's with the face?"

She dropped her grin, replacing it with a curious frown. "What face?"

"The face that says you're really happy about something . . ." His tone implied that he wanted to know what it was.

"I didn't make a face like that!" she denied.

"Claire . . ." his warning was laced in his tone.

She groaned, "Alright," and bit her lip before muttering, "It's . . . um . . ." She shut her mouth.

"Sylar," Noah finished for her, understanding.

She stared at the stars shining outside her window.

"When are you meeting him?"

She stayed silent.

"Tonight," he concluded.

". . . Yeah," she whispered, containing her giddiness.

". . . What time?"

She kept staring at the stars. "Eight," she whispered loud enough for him to hear.

"Eight . . ." he repeated, and did a mental calculation, before saying, "Be back at ten, alright?"

She nodded.

"Dinner's ready," he said.

". . . I'll be down in a minute." He nodded and closed the door.

She listened to his faintly-disappearing footsteps descending the stairs before she turned towards the face of her desk clock on her bedside table. Two hours before eight. She sighed, thinking, _I __**cannot **__**wait**_ _that long!_ and climbed down the bed, heading downstairs to greet the savory smells of her mother's fine cooking.

^.^

Gabriel exited the shop, his "perfect gift" in hand. He headed towards his blue 1970 Chevy pickup truck and put his gift on the passenger's side of the bench seat. He climbed in and started the engine, but he felt like something was missing.

He glanced at his gift and then it hit him: his "perfect gift" isn't so perfect after all. It feels like it has a cliff-hanger to it. His gift needs to be something . . . bigger.

With a sudden strike of inspiration, he drove to the grocery store, mentally starting a list.

^.^

Claire was sitting on the living room couch with her legs crossed, an elbow propped on the armrest, and her head resting on the back of her propped-up hand. Her verdant eyes were staring at the front door, glancing at the wall clock ever so often.

It was already five minutes past eight and she was becoming anxious. What if he couldn't make it? _Don't be silly, Claire, of **course**_ _he'll make it. _What if he'll have some car trouble? _Now that's a stupid question to ask yourself, Claire. __**Seriously! **_What if he decided to come later instead? _And what the heck would make him do that?_

The doorbell rang. She didn't notice it until the third ring. Snapping out of her reverie, she stood up and answered the door.

And there he was, her Gabriel, dressed in a black sports coat and pants with a blue long-sleeve underneath it. His dark brown eyes twinkled when he saw her. "Hey, you."

"Hey," she beamed at him.

"You look as beautiful as ever," he told her, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

She blushed. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true," he grinned.

The temperature in her cheeks rose as she contemplated her attire. She was wearing a simple red halter-top dress that hugged her curves but didn't show too much skin and reached just below her knees, with red high heels. Her hair was in a formal loose bun with a side fringe to make it casual-looking. She was wearing the rose earrings he had given her on their second anniversary.

He led her down the porch, and when they were in front of the passenger side of his truck—which he had parked in front of her house—he presented her with a dozen red roses from behind his back.

"Oh, Gabe . . ." she breathed, taking them and inhaling their sweet scent. "They're beautiful . . ." And then, she noticed it. Among the red roses, sat a plastic red rose in the middle, which looked so much like a real rose that it was almost difficult to tell it apart from the others. She frowned, "What . . .?" and faced him.

He had a warm smile on his face. "When all the roses die, then my love for you will end as well."

She giggled, feeling another blush rise on her cheeks. "That was yet another corny quote from you, Gabriel."

He chuckled. "But that's only Phase One of my gift for you."

She frowned, her curiosity piqued. "How many Phases are there?"

He smiled. "Just two," he said as he opened the passenger's door for her.

^.^

They were at his apartment. She had never been to his apartment before.

She had left the boquet in the truck, and they were now in front of his door.

When he opened the door, he gestured for her to come inside first.

She took in his apartment.

It wasn't small, but it wasn't big either.

The living room was the first thing you would see once you entered; a big, comfy-looking couch sat in the middle of it, with a black glass coffee table and a TV in front of it. To the right was the bedroom, hidden by the door, and to the other side was the kitchen and dining area, separated from the living room with a door and a small bar that hid the kitchen behind white-colored shutters.

Gabriel had closed the door, crept up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Claire . . ." he whispered almost breathlessly in her ear.

She took a deep pull of air into her lungs which formed an almost ragged gasp of . . . pleasure, perhaps? "Yes . . . Gabriel . . .?" she asked, just as breathless as he was, as her hands went up to cover his.

"I love you."

She knew that he did, but it was the first time he had ever said it aloud. Hearing it sent pleasant shudders down her spine. She tilted her head closer to his to breathe in his ear, "I love you, too, Gabe."

She felt his smile on her neck.

"Say that again," he pleaded as he placed little kisses on her neck.

Her gasps came in shudders as an alien feeling shook her body. With Gabriel, it had always been soft and gentle lip-locked kisses that she loved or aggressively hungry full-on snogging that she wanted. He just tastes so _damn __**good**_ . . .

And now, he was necking her, his lips and tongue softening his bites on the sensitive skin on her neck.

She did as he had asked, "I love you, too, Gabriel."

She could feel a huge grin on his face as he continued his kisses from her neck to her shoulder. "Again . . . please . . ." He sounded like he was a condemned man about to be sent to the gallows.

"I love you, too . . . I love you, too, I love you, too, I love you, too, I—" She gasped. He had bitten at the particularly sensitive skin between her shoulder and neck. "Gabriel . . ." she breathed, a small smile creeping on her face. "Oh, Gabe . . ." He had started leaving kisses on her neck again.

He stopped and whispered into her ear, "I love you. . . . Phase Two will start now," before kissing her cheek, letting her go, and taking her hand, leading her to one of the doors.

**A/N: To anyone who took the time to read this crap, I'm sorry if I took so long in updating, but I had had some cases of AL (Author's Laziness), but here's the next chapter now, and yeah I left a little cliff-hanger there, didn't I? Take a guess as to what Phase Two would be. ;) I'd love to hear what you're thinking, so please just click this little button down here and leave me a review! :D (Also, since I'm on a roll right now, I'll give you the third chapter as soon as I can :D)**


	3. The Gift Part Two

**A/N: Hey there! I apologize for the long update. The first two files were lost and I totally don't know why (The computers I've been using to type them must have gone funny. I may never trust a desktop computer again . . .) but here it is at last anyway! :D This certain chapitre was inspired by this (just erase the spaces):**

_**http : / / synestheticmirage . tumblr . com /post/8777325809/capriciousnesss-arranamorozo-so-today-was-my#notes**_

**It's so frick'n **_**sweet **_**and **_**aww-worthy**_**! X3**

**Anyways. Enjoy! :D**

^.^

"Ready?" Gabriel asked her, a hand covering her eyes and another on her shoulder for guidance. She nodded in reply and he uncovered her eyes, which instantly widened in surprised pleasure as a small gasp of delight escaped her lips.

Before her was a circular dining table for two covered in a pristine, floor-length, plain white tablecloth laden with a homemade dinner (fancy roasted chicken and lasagna), Pinot Noir, fancy plates and silverware, and a tabletop candelabra bearing a taper candle in each collar in the middle of the table. As if that wasn't sweet enough already, there were red tulip petals scattered around the floor and what looked like _millions _of white tealight and pillar candles on the kitchen counter and on the floor beside the counter. _And _their song was playing on the radio on the counter.

"And here I thought we were going to some fancy restaurant after you give me Part Two of your gift," she whispered, eyes twinkling pleasantly at the heart-warming sight.

She heard him chuckle from behind her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head. "Well, are we going to eat or are we just going to stand here and look at food I cooked?" he quipped.

She turned around in his arms to look him full on the face, both of them smiling widely. "You are so sweet," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She raised herself on her tip-toes to give him a long, sweet kiss. Once she had pulled away, peering at him through hooded eyes, she whispered, "Thank you," and gave him another kiss.

"My pleasure," he whispered back, staring into her lush, green eyes through lidded eyes. He reached a hand up to cup the back of her head and kiss her again.

She sighed in content as he sucked on her bottom lip. A groan escaped her lips as she opened them to permit him his entrance. Tongues danced, moans emanated from throats, and fingers curled around hair in the few moments their little make-out session took place.

It was only broken when a Taylor Swift song came on the radio. He groaned and hit his head on the doorframe while she giggled, knowing how much he detests the singer's cute country songs.

She gave him a quick peck on the lips and said, "I love this song." That was enough to melt the ice around his heart.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll leave it."

She smiled and gave him another quick kiss before getting out of his embrace and walked towards her chair. He held it back for her like a true gentleman would and she smiled thankfully. She sat down just as he pushed it towards the table for her and then sat in his own chair opposite hers. "Let's eat!"

^.^

Moments later, they were left with two wine glasses of Pinot Noir, its quasi-empty bottle sitting on the coffee table beside her purse, as they cuddled on the couch with a big knitted quilt covering their legs and keeping them warmer and more comfortable while they watched _Bride Wars _(per Claire's pleads).

"Do you think blue would look good on me?" Claire mused, downing her drink and putting her empty glass on the table.

Gabriel, who had done the same, looked down at her contemplatively as she raised her head to look at him. Then he quoted Dan Williams from the movie, "Well . . . You'll look like this very tall (although rather short in human standards), very hot . . . Smurf."

She playfully smacked his arm and they both laughed.

"But seriously," he told her as he pulled her closer to him, "if you want to dye your hair blue, then go for it." He leaned down and whispered to her ear, "Just don't _ever _extinguish that fire within you," then kissed her cheek.

She smiled softly at him, sat up, and kissed him whilst sitting on his lap and straddling him. When she pulled away, she playfully said, "Well, if this '_fire _in me' can get me to second base or even _beyond _that, then I'm all for it."

He chuckled. "Well, if that wouldn't be a little too fast for us . . . ?"

"Well, you _did _neck me earlier, so . . . I guess not . . . ?" He gave another chuckle and kissed her. "What _was _with the necking earlier?" she inquired.

"Nothing," he told her. "I just really . . ." he kissed a corner of her lips, "really . . ." he kissed the other corner, "_really_ missed you," he caught her lips with his in another long, tender kiss.

When he pulled away to trail butterfly kissed down to her throat, she murmured, "Well, we _have _been apart for four months—"

"Just three months and a half actually," he corrected, his breath tickling the skin on her throat, where her small chuckle of affectionate amusement vibrated beneath his lips.

"Exactly. It just felt like it was a little longer, though."

"So I've heard," he chortled, kissing her exposed shoulder.

"I missed you."

He sat back and stared into her twinkling green eyes. He stroked her cheek with the back of his left-hand fingers, "I'm sorry that I couldn't visit more often."

"Don't be," she told him, pressing her cheek against his fingers. "It's not entirely your fault." She sighed and, taking his caressing hand in hers, kissed his fingertips. "What matters is that we're both here now, _together_. Right?"

He smiled. "I think my corniness has affected you."

She frowned, then her eyes widened. "Oh my god," she groaned.

He laughed, earning him another playful smack on the arm. "What?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You're corny enough for the both of us! I don't need any of your corniness rubbing off on me!" she protested, causing him to laugh again.

"You're so cute when you're overreacting," he purred.

She blushed. "You're just saying that so I'll stop 'freaking out' already."

"That's only one of the reasons. The other reason is because it's true," he chuckled.

"Shut up."

"Okay," he shrugged and kissed her.

She pulled away, "I didn't mean it that way."

He tilted his head to the side inquisitively. "So you _don't _want to kiss me?"

"Not unless you're only doing it to shut _me _up too," she reasoned.

He smiled. "Don't worry; I wasn't, since _you _were the one who told _me _to shut up, so I took it as an invitation. ...If that's alright?" He raised an eyebrow at her in amusement.

She smiled back. "Alrighty, then," she concurred and leaned forward for another kiss as he raised his hand to cup it behind her head.

He sucked on her bottom lip and she groaned, opening her mouth as permission for his tongue's entrance once more.

If it wasn't for her phone vibrating, they wouldn't have separated to catch their breath.

Startled, Claire accidentally bit his tongue.

"AGH!" he cried out in pain, pulling away and covering his flooded mouth with the back of his hand to keep the blood from escaping.

"Oh God, I'm _so_, so, so sorry, Gabe!" she apologized fervently, holding his face.

"Ith okay, Clelle," he assured as his tongue healed and the pain slowly subsided, "Tsseck your phone."

Not moving from her spot on his lap, she leaned her upper body towards the coffee table, picked up the offending device, and straightened to check its screen. It was her alarm, reminding her that she only had half an hour left before her curfew.

"Aw, crap," she muttered, scowling at the screen.

"What?" he asked as he searched for something to wipe the rest of the blood from his lip.

"It's already nine-thirty," she sighed gloomily as she replaced her phone on the table, reached for her purse, and fished her handkerchief out to wipe the blood off him.

^.^

"Thank you," he said with a small smile.

She smiled back, "You're welcome," and, with a sigh, put her things back on the table.

His eyes softened at her despondent expression. "Picture time?" he asked and, just as he thought, her eyes immediately twinkled and a smile lit up her face.

"I'll just go fix my hair," she told him and swerved off his lap, grabbed her brush from her purse, and dashed into the bathroom.

Smiling, he stood and strode towards his bedroom, fetching his EOS 450D from his dresser. Whilst turning it on, he silently walked towards the bathroom where he positioned himself, unnoticed, at the door frame and watched Claire finish brushing her hair.

With the camera standing sideways on his right hand and his left hand inserted into his pocket, it looked like he was just casually waiting for her to finish—but he wasn't.

Keeping a patiently-waiting expression on his face, he pressed the capture button on the camera with his thumb, knowing that he had a shot of Claire with her back turned as she brushed her hair and a part of her smiling reflection on the mirror caught on camera.

Hearing the clicking sound when the camera took its picture of her, she frowned at the mirror and spun around, flinching at the sight of him, "Gabe, what the hell!" she all but screeched.

He put on his innocent look, "What?"

"NO PICTURES OF ME WHILE I'M IN THE BATHROOM, REMEMBER?" Dropping her brush, she stepped forward to grab the camera, but he held it out of her grasp.

"Aw, c'mon, you looked so cute and innocent while you brushed your hair!" Gabriel reasoned with a playful grin.

"You know I hate it when I look _terrible _in a picture!" she reminded, completely ignoring his comment.

"You didn't, I swear! Like I said, you looked so cute and innocent!" he repeated with a small laugh.

"I don't _want _to look 'cute and innocent'! I want to look mature and sexy!" she told him with a pout.

"To tell you the truth, either one is fine by me," he murmured, his breath fanning over her pouty face. He leaned his face forward and took her pouting bottom lip in his mouth, eliciting a small moan from her as her agitated body relaxed against him.

"Not fair," she whispered, but latched her mouth onto his, forcing it to open so she could let her tongue roam in it. She swallowed a groan from him and murmured on his lips, "Kissing me to win me over isn't fair, Gabe."

"But you always let me anyways," he reminded her, pulling away and smiling at the scowl on her face.

"C'mere, you." She grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him on his back onto the door frame. He grunted upon impact, and she let her breath tickle the skin on his exposed neck. She heard a faint clicking sound, but ignored it, and started leaving butterfly kisses along his throat. His groan rumbled beneath his lips.

"Reciprocating, babe?" he asked softly, his voice rumbling in his chest and throat underneath her hands and lips, respectively.

"Mm . . . You smell good," she murmured on his neck, trailing her lips towards his collarbone.

"Why, thank you," he breathed. When he felt one of her dainty hands trailing down from his chest, past his stomach, then settling uncertainly just above his groin, he snapped to attention, "WHOA, there!" and grabbed the rogue hand with his right hand, causing the camera to fall sideways and hang by its strap on his wrist. The abrupt outburst and action caused her to cringe and stare up at him in surprise and confusion.

"I don't think were ready for _this _yet, Claire," he told her softly, brows knit together and lips pressed into a thin line.

Her face melted into a partly-sad, partly-pleading, partly-disappointed look. Her big, green doe eyes looked up at him, confused and hurt. "I thought . . ."

"No, no, no, no, no," Gabriel used his other hand to tilt her chin up. "Claire, I want to, I really do. God knows how long I've waited for you, how _long_ I've waited to get to this point in time here. But . . . I'm just . . . I'm not sure we should . . . you know . . . get into it so soon—not that I'm complaining or anything!" he quickly added, withdrawing the hand under her chin to cup her cheek instead.

"But you _are _complaining . . ." Claire told him.

He made a face. "Oh. Um . . . well . . . I . . . uh . . ."

"You're running out of reasons, Gabriel," she informed him, leaning her face into his palm as she pressed her body closer to his.

He sighed and kissed her hand he had encased in his earlier. "I'm not running out of reasons, I'm stuttering," he corrected.

"Same thing," she said with a smile.

"No, they're not."

"Yeah, they are, in this case."

"Claire—"

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me, Gabe." She gave him a cross look, and he smiled. He tilted his head and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on her lips. "Good boy."

"I'm not a dog, you know," he murmured on her lips.

She briefly pressed her lips to his. "Good thing, too."

He chuckled and moved his head lower to kiss her neck, making her sigh in content. After a few more soft kisses, she pulled his face up and kissed him. She opened her mouth for him and he gladly let his tongue slowly roam her mouth.

Alarm bells started ringing in his head when he felt her rogue hand come up from his hand and start undoing the top buttons of his coat. "Shouldn't we take some pictures for our album like we planned?" he suddenly asked once he'd pulled away from her.

"I think that could wait," she murmured, leaning in for another kiss.

"Claire," he stopped her head and hand with a gentle press of his hands. "We're going about this relationship slowly, aren't we?"

"Gabriel, we've been dating for three years, known each other for almost six years before I forgave you—"

"Which would make nine years that we've known each other." She gave him a withering look. "Sorry. Go on."

"And pined for each other for most of that time except for the four earlier years. I doubt going slow is going to do us any good," she reasoned.

He thought it over for a few seconds before saying, "We have twenty-five minutes left at most. Would you prefer if we take this to the bedroom?"

^.^

"I love you, Gabriel," Claire whispered against his chest.

"I love you too, Claire," Gabriel whispered in her hair, bestowing a soft kiss on her head, before pulling away from the embrace.

It was 9:28 in the evening and Gabriel and Claire were already giving their farewells on the Bennet's front porch, so Gabriel was safe to assume that Noah wasn't going to try and kill him.

"Thank you," she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "for _everything_." Her eyes twinkled and they smiled, both knowing that they'd have to be extra careful with their affectionate displays, especially after what had happened in his apartment's bedroom . . . He hoped the sound shield he'd put up around them had effectively blocked any sounds that had come from either of them to any of his neighbours.

"You're welcome." He pressed the back of her hand to his lips. "Till next time then."

"Take care, okay?" She knew he was invincible, but he can still feel pain.

"I will. And the same goes for you, danger-magnet," he smiled at her eye-roll.

"See you, Gabe." After he placed one last kiss her on the forehead, she went inside, smiling happily.

^.^

It was their sixth-year anniversary and this time Gabriel already had a present in mind. He was working on it right then, actually. _Last one . . . _He took the marker from beside his gift and wrote in the words he had in mind. Once done, he sat back and expelled a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

He glanced at the watch Claire had given him on their third anniversary just after the incident in his bedroom. He smiled at the memory. The Rolex had cost her a few months' salary at the shop, but she'd assured him she didn't mind saving up for him, even though she was still staying at her parent's to cut down on the amount subtracted from her salary, what with college med. eating most of it up.

She was going to love his present. He just _knew _it. He glanced at Phase One again, then at Phase Two sitting right above it on the table, and smiled. This year, he was going to have two phases to his gift again, but this was going to be better. He just _knew _it.

This year, he was going to give her the Ultimate Present.

^.^

**A/N: Yeaaaaah, I'm finally, finally, **_**finally **_**(!) finished with this chapitre! If you find any grammatical/spelling errors or whatever **_**at all**_**, please point them out to me. Thanks! :D Next chapter's most probably the last, **_**and **_**it's already halfway done, so yeah. :) Leave me a review, guys! :D**


	4. The Ultimate Present

**EDIT: Took out the first part, just because. Everything's still in place, though, don't worry.**

**MATHEMATICAL INFO STUFF: **_**Dual **_**aired on Dec. 15, 2008 (I checked) so in this chapter, Sylar has been amnesic for a little over two weeks after that before Claire found him. And then, since I mentioned that they've known each other for four years before she forgave him, been friends for two years after that, and then been together for three years after that, it'd be July 10, 2018 in this here chapter.**

**A/N: Yeah, I actually did the math for this fic; I don't know why, must be some annoying persona in me that needs a fixed date for, like, **_**everything**_**. Also, I know that Sylar can't **_**possibly **_**become amnesic by a glass shard shoved into his brain, but just go with it for the purposes of the plot, mmkay? Anyway. Moving on!**

^.^

There have been many extremely embarrassing moments in Lyle Bennet's life. One of the worst was when his Coke spurted out his nose when he laughed at a joke his friend made. And then the nose-Coke splattered all over Jeanine Wilson, his yearlong crush in middle school, who they had been talking to. But he never thought he'd see or experience anything more traumatizing and embarrassing than _Seeing Mom and Dad Make Out at the Porch Swing and Getting Caught_.

When he heard heavy breathing coming from the kitchen, he expected to see a wounded burglar or something cooling off at the table, but he _never_ expected to see something even _worse_ than the aforementioned trauma: _Seeing Super Sis and Her Ex-Psycho Boyfriend Doing It on the Kitchen Table and Getting Caught_.

"Holy shit!" was his initial reaction and it certainly got the two even-more-embarrassed love-makers to cease and desist.

Lyle's hands immediately dropped his backpack, which he's previously planned to fling at the mysterious being(s), and flown to his blood-rushed face. He started muttering "Oh gods, oh God, you _cannot _be this cruel to me. I am _so _not seeing this. _SEE NO EVIL!_" through his fingers as he turned his back towards the scene.

Claire's ex-psycho-killer longest-lasting boyfriend, Gabriel, was as red as a tomato and shooting curses all over the kitchen floor as he hastily pulled up his boxers and pants. Meanwhile, "_Lyle_!" was the first thing that flew out of his just-as-red-faced older sister's mouth as she hurriedly pulled her shorts up to her hips.

After a few moments with only the rushed noise of clothing covering skin up, Claire yelled, "LYLE BENNET! START EXPLAINING YOURSELF!"

She was loud and angry—that means they're both decent. He let his hands fall and started waving them to around to emphasize his statement, "_I DON'T HAVE ANY __**SCHOOL **__TOMORROW SO I THOUGHT I'D __**COME HOME**__! AND I MOST __**DEFINTIELY **__DIDN'T EXPECT __**YOU GUYS **__LOOK LIKE YOU'RE __**CRAFTILY **__TRYNNA __**BREAK THE DAMN TABLE **__WHEN I GOT HERE! Heck, I thought there was a wounded __**BURGLAR**__ IN THE HOUSE OR __**SOMETHING**__! Now why don't __**you **__explain __**WHY IN THE HECK YOU WERE GOING AT IT LIKE RABBITS IN THE FRICK'N KITCHEN**__?_"

The two blushed. Claire responded with a timid, "Well, I thought no one was coming home and I was alone so you know, I needed some company and, well, the rest is history."

"Most _definitely _history," Lyle concurred, dropping the subject as he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "I'm retiring to my room now so you guys can do whatever you want—but _please _keep it down." And on that note, he took the stairs two at a time and swung his bedroom door closed behind him.

^.^

After a few beats of awkward silence, Gabriel suggested they go to his apartment and eat something instead of staying and "doing whatever they wanted but keeping it down." After they put on their socks and shoes, they walked out of the Bennet house and on the driveway, he took her in his arms and flew them to his apartment. She was staring suspiciously at him. "I spoke with Nathan two days ago—e_mpathized_ with him—and got his power, among other things," he supplied.

"Among _what _other things?" she asked apprehensively.

"He's still alive and well, Claire." He looked crestfallen. "I thought we were over this."

Her expression softened. "I'm sorry, Gabriel, I just . . ."

He shrugged. "Old habits die pretty hard, huh?" he quipped.

She just smiled at his endless understanding and pecked him on the cheek just as they landed on his apartment complex's rooftop.

He was smiling now. "C'mon, I'll make us some mac and cheese."

They ate homemade macaroni and cheese a la Gabriel (meaning healthy-fied with chopped vegetable toppings) and then went to the living room afterwards when he told her he had a gift for her there.

"I don't remember seeing any gift-wrapped packages when we came in," Claire mused.

"It's not really that _huge _anyway," Gabriel said.

"Really?" Claire grinned and impulsively thought of a tiny velvet box with a promise inside.

She sat down on the couch and waited patiently as he went over to his work table near the window (_Oh . . . So __**that's **__where it is, _she realized.), picked up the present, and walked over and plunked himself down beside her. He handed her the gift, which wasn't wrapped _at all_, saying, "Happy Anniversary, Claire," and her eyes widened.

No, it wasn't a box with a ring in it, but it _was _something sweet, though. It was a photo album labelled in permanent marker on sticker paper with Gabriel's handwriting: _Memories_.

"Aw, Gabe," was all she could say.

"Been working on it all night yesterday."

She looked up at him. "You're sweet, but you need your rest, you know." She gave him a peck on the cheek, to which he smiled at.

"I know. I slept the whole morning, don't worry," he assured her.

"Good." Her smile gradually disappeared and her face melted into a look of shock and distress and frustration.

"What's wrong?" Gabriel immediately inquired with worry in his voice.

"Oh gods, Gabe, I'm _sooo _so so sorry!" The sound of skin hitting skin when she smacked her palm against her forehead resonated throughout the room as she squeezed her eyes shut and her face formed into a grimace and an animal-like growl of aggravation rolled in her throat and escaped through her grit teeth.

"Claire, what is it? What?" he asked, keeping his voice low and soft and reassuring as he gently removed her hand by the wrist from her forehead. When he lifted her palm to his lips and kissed it, she slowly looked up at him with anguish written all over her face and that _I'm going to hate myself forever _look shining in her verdant eyes.

"Gabe, I so sorry," she whispered again, her voice cracking as her eyes started to tear up.

"Sorry about what? I can take it. You know so." He brushed a few stray strands from her forehead and tucked them behind her ear. "What's upsetting you so much?" He held her apologetic gaze with his concerned look.

When she opened her mouth, he expected an earth-shattering statement that would be reason enough for her breakdown, but what came out was, "I forgot to buy you a gift for our anniversary."

He laughed. His face just broke into a grin and he tossed his head back, opening his mouth as wide as it could and letting his laughter out of his diaphragm. Claire was incredulously looking at him like he was crazy and she was highly offended by his response. But he couldn't help himself. Really. Only his Claire could let something so _trivial _look like it was a matter of life-and-death.

Once he regained his breath and was sane enough to remember how to speak, he stared at her with a goofy grin and laughing eyes before chuckling, "Claire, I don't really _care _if you got me a gift or not." His expression softened into one of amused adoration as he took her chin in his thumb and index finger and fixed her gaze with his. "All I care about is that I'm with you and you still want to be with me. That's it. And anyway, I understand why you'd forget. What with Noah's stroke and all, you'd be preoccupied with worry of course. So, really Claire, it's okay. Don't worry your pretty little head about it," he added with a small chuckle and kissed the top of her head.

She sighed. "I'm—"

"If I hear you apologize one more time, I swear I'll—"

"—going to look at these pictures now," Claire finished, cutting off his threat, "so I need to lie back against the arm of the couch so I can snuggle with you while I leaf through."

Rolling his eyes at her rectification, he obliged, stretching his body out on the couch, and she lay back against his torso in her position between his legs as she put her feet up onto the couch. As she opened the photo album on her stomach, he wrapped his arms around her waist, tucked his head between her head and shoulder, and pulled her closer.

On the first page was a picture of them in the park on the Fourth of July. They were standing on the grassy area in the park, Claire's arms around his waist and his right arm around her shoulders with Claire's head resting on his shoulder, and, since Gabriel had brought his camera with him, they were smiling widely at the camera Gabriel held at arm's length with the fireworks display in the background. Underneath the photo, in Gabriel's handwriting, their names were written in big, bold letters with permanent marker on sticker paper. Underneath their names, in the same piece of sticker paper, were the words _The Fourth of July, 2010_.

She smiled and started leafing through the pages, sometimes taking a longer pause in some pictures that particularly brought a huge smile to her face. Like the picture of her brushing her hair in front of the bathroom mirror in Gabe's apartment. Underneath it were the words _Claire, you're already pretty, so get outta there!_ That brought a chuckle out of her lips.

On the next page was a picture of Gabriel, who was looking lustfully at her like he wanted to tear her clothes out right there and then, against the bathroom door frame and Claire pressed against him looking sexily intimidating as hell with her tiny hands fisted in his shirt. The words _The First (Very) Intimate Moment _were underneath, and then enclosed in parentheses beneath that was the date of their third-year anniversary: _July 10, 2015_.

She smiled and looked up at him, "I didn't know you took a picture of us in our 'first _very _intimate moment'."

He smiled back and shrugged. "It was a fluke actually. I accidentally pressed the camera's capture button when you shoved me against the door frame."

She chuckled. "I didn't push you _too _hard, right?"

He gave a small shake of his head. "Nah. You didn't dislocate my shoulder blades or anything, but the impact was hard enough to bruise." He glanced at her face and noticed how the blood drained from it. He snickered. "I'm just _messing _with you, Claire! It wasn't _that_ hard! I barely felt it, actually."

His jest earned him a smack on the head. "Ass. You had me worried there!"

He withdrew his head to massage it with his hand as he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. "Sorry, babe."

She rolled her eyes. "Apology accepted," she muttered and started to leaf through the pages again.

Since he took that damn camera with him almost _everywhere _he went, the photo album looked more like an encyclopedia from the outside. There were pictures of them kissing, of them on the rooftop of his apartment, of them at the park, at the beach, with Peter or Emma or all four of them together, of them on their birthdays (including Peter and Emma's), on Peter and Emma's bachelor/bachelorette party mash-up, of Peter and Emma's wedding, of him and Claire dancing (taken by Peter), on holidays with each other, and such.

When she got to the last photo, she frowned. There wasn't one. But there was a word written at the bottom of the page, _Roses_.

"What—?"

"I want you to go somewhere with me," Gabriel suddenly put in.

Claire glanced up at him as he started to ease out the couch. She stood and placed the album on the coffee table and, after he pulled on a shirt and (for some reason) slung his camera around his neck, took his hand. He led her outside and up to the rooftop, where he took her in his arms again and they flew off.

^.^

They landed in the park. _**The**__ park_, Claire realized with wide eyes. She let go and walked over to a bench, slowly running her hand back and forth on its back.

He walked over and stood behind her. "When you found me sitting here—" he gestured to it with his hand and she had to smile at the memory, "—that certain cold New Year's Eve, all confused and slightly amnesic from the glass shard you had shoved deep in my brain, and aimed a gun at my face (and I still don't know _how_ you had it with you), I was shocked and confused as hell. When I realized you knew who I was and you told me 'I'm Sylar,' I don't think you saw the look in my eyes that signified the memories rushing back to me, but I _do _know that _you _were shocked and confused when I told you I wanted to change all of a sudden."

Claire chuckled, "Yes, I was. My first thought was that you had a _serious _mood swing."

He snorted, grinning, and continued, "Well, after that I told you it was because I didn't want to kill anymore, because I realized that by being a monster, I would still be incomplete. Empty. And then you shot me down and I laughed in your face. That's when I realized . . . how much I missed you."

Claire smiled softly. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because a few days after that incident, I realized that I felt something for you other than contempt, I realized just how much I wanted to be with you. A few weeks after we became friends, I realized that I love you."

"You said so, you know, when we were still dating."

He smiled, "I know. And then, after, like, ten dates, I asked you if you wanted to be my girlfriend. At the time, I thought that it was the hardest thing _ever _to ask. But now, I think otherwise." He took her in his arms, and she turned around to return his embrace. When he took to the sky, she clutched him tighter and wondered where they were going. She asked as much and all she got for an answer was a cryptic "You'll see."

A few moments later, he broke the silence (except for the wind rushing noisily past them as they flew) with the declaration "Now I think _this _question is a lot harder to ask," because he _knows _he can't _bear_ the heart-wrenching, breathtaking (not in the good way) pain the rejection of this certain question could bring, "that's why I'll let _them _ask it first."

She frowned at him. "'Them'?"

He was staring intently at the ground. She followed his gaze. When she did, her breath hitched in her throat and her eyes felt like they would pop out of their sockets, cartoon-like.

On the grass in a large garden with a tiny pond, framed in a square by trees and four lit lampposts, in big, bold, red letters were the words:

_MARRY ME_

_CLAIRE_

She frowned when she realized the grass was coming towards them and the words were growing larger and larger. Then it came to her that they were flying towards the garden. When they were close enough to smell the grass, she found out that the words were made from blooming red roses.

They landed in front of the roses making her name and she turned to face him. He was looking at her meaningfully, waiting for her response. She was speechless.

^.^

"Claire," he started, "you don't have to worry about your fathers, because I've already asked them. I asked Noah first because he was the nearest father and he threatened me with a long list of things he had already and would eventually do if I hurt you, then acquiesced. I asked Nathan next, just a couple of days ago, and he was telling me that you were one of the most precious people in the world to him. I told I felt the same way and I would never do _anything _to hurt you. He agreed, we shook on it, and when I left, I realized I got his power—a bonus, actually, along with his consent."

He gave her a few moments to process all this, before saying, "I even asked Peter. And that was the easiest part. Of sorts. Because he _did _threaten to bust my kneecaps if I hurt you, but his assent was quick and now, here we are."

She didn't say anything. Just stared wide-eyed at the roses, then glanced at him and held his gaze. When the silence was too much to bear, he finally knelt down on one knee and took out the velvet box from his jeans pocket. He opened it and briefly watched the emerald on the ring inside sparkle in the moonlight. He glanced up and stared in her similarly colored eyes and held her wide-eyed gaze. "Claire, will you marry me?"

She was silent, just _staring_ at him for what seemed like an eternity. Then finally, "Gabriel, I . . . I-I don't . . . I don't know . . ."

In that instant, he felt as if the ground disappeared underneath his feet, then the garden disappeared as well as the stars and all that was left was him, the ring, and those beautiful green eyes of hers. He lost his footing and fell . . . And kept falling . . . The darkness was suffocating him, crushing his chest so hard like a soda can in an iron grip and leaving him catching his breath. He felt slightly light-headed, like he was drunk or high, and all he could see were the colors green, yellow, and black slowly starting to fade into the darkness.

The only thing that made him keep a crushing grip on reality was her voice, this time saying, "I don't know . . . I don't know what . . . I . . ." She took a deep breath and finally finished with, "I don't know what to say."

"A yes or a no would suffice." His voice was uncharacteristically calm and steady but sounded so . . . mechanical.

She sobbed and then pressed her palms to her lips as if she could push the sound back in and cage it. Her eyes started to well with tears and he had an ominous feeling that she was going to apologize and say something along the lines of "I don't think it would work out," or "I don't think you're The One for me," and essentially put an end to his will to live once and for all.

Her mouth was covered but he could faintly hear muffled sounds coming from behind her hands. He didn't want to hear the words that would break his heart, but at least he'd have a clue as to what it was he had fundamentally screwed up in the past that would make her want to reject him. "What?" he croaked, and felt a stinging heat behind his eyes.

She removed her hands and started to wave them around as she jumped up and down in place and all but screamed, "_YES! _OH MY GOD! _**YES**__, _GABRIEL, _I'LL MARRY YOU_! **OH MY GOD!**" And on that final note, she tackled him, sending them sprawled on the grass with her on top, giggling hysterically and repeating the word "yes" over and over and over.

Gabriel Gray could not believe his ears. He blinked several times and her words kept echoing inside his head: "Yes! I'll marry you!"

Claire pulled away but kept him at arm's length, stared into his eyes for a few seconds as tears strolled down her face, and then laughed. He only realized he was crying too when Claire commented with a hearty laugh that they were both doing so.

He felt a chuckle erupt from his chest and a wide smile grow on his lips. _She's going to marry me._ To say he was ecstatic would be an understatement. He felt like he was flying even though he was pinned to the ground by the most beautiful, most wonderful, most _amazing _woman he had ever met. He felt like the world could end at any moment but he wouldn't give two crap loads. He felt like he could gaze into her eyes forever. _Forever. _She was going to be _his. __**Officially.**_

Forever.

He repositioned his arms and dug his elbows and forearms into the ground and leaned up with their help. He gave her a kiss that said everything he felt about her and everything he felt in that moment. He slowly pulled away and lifted his hand up to brush her hair from her face, then moved it to cup the back of her head and kiss her again. Her hands moved from his waist and travelled up his back with one of them getting lost in his hair and the other gripping his shirt tightly as if he could disappear any moment if she loosened her grip.

"I love you," he murmured on her lips. "So much."

"I love you too," she whispered with a sincere smile and kissed him again.

All was most _definitely _right with the world. If something screws up though, then what does he care unless it directly concerns him? All that matters was that she was marrying him, they were getting married, she is going to be his, she will be with him forever, and he loves her. And she loves him back.

^.^

**Epilogue**

Fifteen years later, in their new house in sunny California, Claire was lying on couch with her back on a cushion propped up against the arm and their _Memories _photo album open on her lap. With a smile on her face, she carefully leafed through the pages, briefly reliving all their memories in their first few years together. When she got to the last few pages, she smiled once her eyes took hold of the picture of the roses saying _MARRY ME CLAIRE_ in the garden Gabriel had found in his childhood days. The word _Roses _was written underneath on sticker paper with permanent marker in his scrawly handwriting.

She flipped the page and her smile grew when she saw a picture of her in wide-eyed shock, lips slightly parted to signify her small gasp. Below the picture were the words _Her Reaction_, and she emitted a small chuckle at Gabriel's goofiness. She averted her eyes to the next page, where a picture of Gabriel down on one knee and Claire covering her mouth as he proposed to her. She knew he telekinetically took the picture, just so he could add it to the album. The words _The Proposal _could be found underneath and she had to roll her eyes at the movie implication.

On the next final pages were pictures of them at their wedding, taken by none other than Gabriel's best friend and her beloved uncle, Peter Petrelli. She smiled and ran a finger down the picture of them sealing the deal with a kiss. She remembered when he took his hand to lead her to the altar and whispered how beautiful she looked that day and that he just fell in love with her all over again.

"Hey, you," his velvety voice purred in her ear just before he pressed a kiss to her cheek. She smiled and tilted her head to kiss him on the lips.

"Hey to you too," she responded with a giggle and kissed him again.

"Get a room!" they heard the voices of a young boy and two girls chorus from a few feet away.

They raised their heads to mock-glare at their fifteen-year-old son Noah (who had his mother's looks), their twelve-year-old daughter Samantha (who looks _so much_ like her mother, by the way), and their eight-year-old daughter Hailey (who looks like Gabriel's young female counterpart), all of whom were carrying grocery bags taken from the car. "C'mon, guys, cut me some slack, I just got here!" Gabriel complained.

"Yeah. Right. After being in the store for, like, an _hour_," Noah commented with an eye-roll very similar to his mother's.

"Daaaaaaddyyyyyy!" came their four-year-old's voice as he ran towards his father.

Gabriel straightened and, grinning, took the boy in his arms, "Hey, buddy," and gave him a kiss on the top of his raven-haired head. "See? Little Nathaniel here missed me," he addressed his older children.

"That's only 'cause he can't tell time yet, Dad," Sam countered as she walked with her siblings to the kitchen.

"Yeah, but he'll learn. As soon as possible, ain't that right Neil?" he asked the toddler in his arms.

"Yeah! I can count now, Daddy!" Neil beamed at him.

"Really?" Gabriel was the picture of pride, with a huge genuine smile and proud twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah! Mommy taught me!"

"Is that so . . . ?" Gabriel drawled out as he slowly turned his head to look at his wife.

Claire chuckled as she stretched on the couch. "Yeah, he _really _wanted to get it over with, so I taught him to count till—"

"Fifty!" Neil declared.

"Wow! What an _achievement_! My little genius," Gabriel gave his son a stubbly kiss on the cheek that made the child giggle. "Now, why don't you go practice from fifty-one to one-hundred, hm?"

"Okay!" the toddler agreed enthusiastically as he was gently put down. He rushed to the kitchen doorway where Hailey was just exiting.

"Hey, you," the eight-year-old greeted with a smile.

"Daddy says teach me to count fifty-one to a hundred!" Neil announced.

"Daaaad!" Hailey complained.

Gabriel shrugged. "Well, you have nothing to do, so—"

"But I have homework!" she fibbed.

Gabriel tapped the back of his head. "Human lie detector, remember?"

Hailey groaned in frustration but acquiesced and gently took her younger brother's tiny hand in her bigger one and led him to his playroom upstairs.

"Sooo . . ." Gabriel started as he planted his hands on the arm on the couch and leaned closer to his wife. "Now that we're alone . . ."

Claire gave a small chortle. "Gabe, the kids are in the next room."

"So? We can take this upstairs," he responded with a suggestive waggle of his thick eyebrows.

Claire raised her hand and leisurely ran her index finger down his left cheek. "Neil and Hailey are upstairs too."

"I could just sound-proof our room then," he amended.

She laughed. Oh, the things he could think up just so he could do what he wanted with her. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "You are insatiable."

"On the contrary, _you _were the insatiable one in this relationship. You still are, though," he commented with a mischievous wink and a cheeky smile.

She just chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and kissing him. "Later, hon," Claire acceded when she pulled away. She laughed at his glower. "You still have to cook lunch," she reminded.

He sighed. "Sadly. _But_! If lunch is the only thing keeping me from _devouring _your _wonderful _body," he teased as he sucked on her bottom lip, making her giggle, "hmm, then so be it." He gave her another peck on the lips before pulling away, straightening and tossing a "Lunch will be ready soon" over his shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen.

Claire smiled.

_All was right with the world._

^.^

**A/N: I totally didn't know how to end this thing, so... sorry if the ending's awkward! Yeah, this thing's finally (FINALLY!) done! :3 Please excuse any and all errors. Cut me some slack, it's late! Happy new year, y'all! X3 Leave a review, please! :D**


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